


Gentle

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:10:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's good just to be trusted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentle

**Author's Note:**

> Shippy if you squint.

They surprise each other every now and then with how gentle and careful they can be.

Really, Roadhog knows it shouldn’t shock him quite so much, that Junkrat can be so delicate. After all, he’s a genius when it comes to chemistry, to tinkering little things together; just because he’s mouthy and brash and obviously just a touch mad; just because he’s Junkrat doesn’t mean he’s incapable of a few moments of quiet delicacy.

Still, it’s amazing how little he fidgets, how patient he can be.

The first time they did this, ‘Hog expected a mess. A big one, honestly, paint slung not just on his hands but drooled on the floor, splattered on the bed.

But no. Junkrat is careful, as careful as a mortician putting the final lacquer on a dead girl’s nails. He’s quiet, mechanical hand holding Roadhog’s much larger one up to see better, flesh hand lightly gripping the tiny brush.

More; Junkrat is the one to notice when their paint is chipping, when they’re starting to look ragged. Sometimes Roadhog beats him to saying something, but usually Jamie’s on top of it.

For Roadhog’s part, it’s a very conscious effort to be careful. 'Rat is careful with him, so he pays the younger man back in kind; but it’s hard, massive hands not made for such delicate work. He was built to grab and bruise and break, but he knows plenty about fighting to be a different man now. There is a ghost in him, and Rutledge stirs uneasily in these moments, steadying ‘Hog’s massive hands and keeping him tender.

These moments when they sit together, they’re special things, almost ethereal. Junkrat likes to sit in Roadhog’s lap, the metal of his prosthetic digging in oddly but not wretchedly, as first he paints the older man’s nails and the leans back, allowing the favor to be returned.

There is a big part of Roadhog that screams to remind him that Jamie is an investment, his boss in this weird little excursion, and definitely too much trouble to be called a friend. Roadhog doesn’t need or want friends, either, doesn’t have the temperament or emotional depth to maintain them.

Or, at least that’s what he privately holds in what’s left of his heart. He put a lot of work into burying Mako Rutledge, and for all that Jamie’s presence brings that corpse shuffling slowly up from its grave, Roadhog knows the man he was is dead.

And the dead don’t get to come back.

Still, there’s something… soft, odd and worthwhile about these moments, and he relishes them. It’s good to be trusted, maybe, and to have someone to trust in return.


End file.
